Severus and Lily
by SalomeLily
Summary: Severus Snape and Lily Evans are on a Muggle Train on their way to a potions convention some time during their time at Hogwarts, probably fifth or sixth year. Lily is a bit tired and quotes Oscar Wilde to Severus as a way of complementing him. He responds by (sort of) telling her how he really feels, and they kiss.


The Muggle train was rather unpleasant. Every Formica-enhanced surface seemed faintly sticky and/or gritty. Severus and Lily worked their way self-consciously to a small private compartment.

"This is the one that Slughorn said. You know, so we can study without the Muggles noticing or whatever," said Severus. They placed their bulky suitcases on the luggage rack outside and ducked into the compartment.

It consisted of two benches facing each other, upholstered in discolored red plastic. A table covered in - quelle surprise - Formica was attached to the wall between them. The window was thinly coated with a layer of faint scratches, blurring the view of the bustling station beyond.

Severus slid into the forward-facing seat. Lily sat opposite him and looked out the scratched window with mild interest. Severus scrutinized the table as though it was a difficult potion to keep himself from staring at her.

As the train rolled into motion, Lily went faintly green and moved quickly to sit beside Severus. "I get nauseous if I'm facing backwards," she whispered. Severus wanted to kick himself for not asking her which seat she would prefer. He knew that he ought to sit across from her, but although it was an uncomfortably close fit into their seat, he felt self-conscious about asking her to move to he could get out. He pulled out One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi and held it close to his face.

Lily sighed. "I can't read on trains either, or I get nauseous." She laughed archly. "I guess I seem a bit delicate, don't I, Sev?"

He looked up quickly at her sparkling green eyes. There was nothing delicate about her slender ardent person. "Oh," he said. "Er. . . Maybe I should quiz you on herbs? To get ready for the potion convention?"

She brightened visibly. "Good idea!"

"All right. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

A few hours later, the cold heather-colored landscape rushing past the window darkened as crumbled charcoal was scattered over the bleak watercolor. The two teenagers began to blink with tiredness. Severus was painfully aware of the elephant in the room, that they would probably need to sleep at some point, but the girl beside him was untroubled by any unnecessary awkwardness. Lily fell asleep with her head on his shoulder.

The soft, tangible weight of her head, fitting so perfectly, so naturally, on the slight concave space between his clavicle and his chest, sent subtle tremors through Severus. His thin mouth was mere inches from her lips. Her arm was against his, fitting beside it like a puzzle piece - his missing piece. He wanted, wanted so badly that he was suddenly on the verge of tears, to kiss her mouth, to feel her hair and her neck under his hands. He would not allow his imagination to go further.

The dark curve of her lashes, fringing the shuttered windows of her eyes, moved slightly, as though she was aware of the intense gaze of the black eyes studying her in the semi-darkness. Severus hesitated for a moment, then slowly shifted his arm away and half-lifted it gingerly. Lily did not wake up, but slid slightly down. Her head was now on his chest. He was terrified that she would hear the wild rapid beating of his heart through his shirt. With his recently-freed arm, he reached gingerly toward her.

The air shivered in the breath of space between his elegant long-fingered hand and the top of her head, then ever so gently, he ran his hand lightly down her hair. Supple and cool as running water, flame-colored and vibrant - fire water, he thought.

Lily raised her head and looked through him lucidly. Severus realized with a lightning-bolt shock that she had been awake since he had seen her eyelashes move oh so slightly. She spoke softly and ethereally, quoting Wilde as though from another universe.

" ' It is his eyes above all that are terrible. They are like black holes burned by torches in a Tyrian tapestry . . . They are like the black caverns of Egypt in which the dragons make their lairs. They are like black lakes troubled by fantastic moons . . .' "

Severus stared at her a moment longer, utterly at a loss. Then he knew that now was his chance, his chance to voice the things that had never taken shape in the air before, that had stayed locked in the convoluted labyrinthine vault that was his mind. The words tumbled from his mouth stiffly and awkwardly, making a strangely eloquent kind of rhythm.

"Your eyes . . . are like cut emeralds. They are like the light that filters through the Black Lake. They are like the buds on the trees that haven't blossomed yet, that know the secret of spring. They are like frozen emeralds with centers of flame, they burn like green ice . . ."

Lily lifted her face to his, close, close, and at last Severus felt the touch of her lips. His eyes fluttered closed of their own accord. She kissed him gently, softly. His slender tapered fingers wove delicately through her flame-colored tresses. He was afraid, terrified, of kissing her too hard, of opening his eyes to find disgust and pity in hers, to have her draw away from him and state coldly that they were only friends. She closed her own eyes and kissed him harder, more insistently. Severus felt he was losing contact with the ground, the only real thing was the ardent Lily in his arms. Her hands floated around his neck, buried themselves in the silky black hair that James had called greasy.

It might have been five minutes or five hours. Neither of them would know who drew back first. Perhaps it was Severus, afraid of what he might do if he did not physically disengage from her. Perhaps it was Lily, feeling the unsteady awkwardness of adolescence and somehow remembering the presence of the gritty train barreling towards the Arsenius Jigger Convention.


End file.
